


tired of losing it all

by lenardo_09



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:08:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26037664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lenardo_09/pseuds/lenardo_09
Summary: The aftermath of it all is quieter than Elliott expected.
Relationships: Crypto | Park Tae Joon/Mirage | Elliott Witt
Comments: 5
Kudos: 82





	tired of losing it all

The last squad came and went, as they usually did. Elliott was really starting to get irritated with the Volt—it tore through his shields and a good majority of the shots hit. A pain in the ass, but he was starting to get used to it. What he  _ wasn't  _ quite used to was Ramya’s turret—or, as she so lovingly dubbed it, Sheila. The amped cover made that thing… dangerous. 

Park, however, didn't seem to have many issues with Ramya’s setup. 

Hearing the sound of an EMP going off followed by the shattering of the  _ amped _ part of her amped cover was terrifying but good—at least when the hacker was on his team. 

The last squad they encountered—Loba, Renee, and Makoa—had been innocently looting the squad they had downed before being attacked by Elliott’s own squad—Park and Ramya. It had been surprisingly efficient. The engineer set up her cover on a cliff just above where they were, giving Park only a moment to EMP the enemy squad, before Sheila was unleashed. 

Elliott had watched as the group scrambled to cover and the fight was on. 

Obviously, the three had emerged victorious, and were currently shifting through the death boxes left behind. 

Elliott shot a glance towards Park, rooting around in Makoa’s box and wearing an unreadable expression, which had been his go-to for a while now. After the… events that transpired during Loba’s little “mission,” Park had seemed rather unaffected by everything. Natalie had become hostile towards him, actively making a show that, usually, resulted in their third teammate feeling uncomfortable. The hacker responded with restrained anger or his native tongue, though he didn't seem to be taking a hard hit. 

But Elliott knew better. He knew how perfectly constructed the hacker’s mask was, and hiding seemed to be his specialty. The last thing Elliott wanted to do was worsen the situation, so he didn't bother the man too much, but, to him, it was obvious the situation had affected him. 

Their banter remained, and their dynamic had remained as it had. Elliott had believed him from the start that he wasn't the mole—well, didn't really need his statement on the matter: he just knew he was innocent. Park had been scarred too much by betrayal to have the ability to do such a thing, especially to those who hadn't given him any reason to. Elliott could see as much, but he supposed a room full of terrified adults would turn on the first person to show signs of guilt. 

Anyone to point fingers at. Anyone to take the blame and satiate the lingering sense of fear and distrust. 

Their banter remained, but it was different. Park didn't really mention his “fond nicknames,” opting for simply “Witt” or “Mirage” (is it weird to like Park’s pronunciation so much—the way he just  _ says _ it?) with less playful jabs during the match. He's more quiet, just releasing occasional “hms” and quick responses that didn't indicate distrust or malice—no, it was hesitance. 

Elliott didn't like it. He didn't like the hacker thinking he was going to lose another friend because of his actions, that the trickster was going to just leave him over playful teasing. He was more thick-skinned than that—or so he liked to think. Hell, where he wasn't getting teasing banter with Park, he was getting it with Ramya. 

It wasn't quite the same. Park had a certain dry wit that the trickster loved (loved?), but Ramya—well, she's certainly like a younger sibling, saying things to each other that had no bite to it but certainly sounded like personal attacks. 

Park was just scared, and he didn't blame him: those late night talks revealed a lot about him and he wasn't someone who handed trust out so easily. Gifting it to Natalie like that, feeling he was allowed a vulnerable moment of faith—it must have put him back into the mindset of “everyone is an enemy.” 

Elliott just hopes he doesn't count as “everyone.”

Moving over to where the hacker was, seating himself next to his crouched form, the trickster began shifting through the contents in the box, Park’s attention momentarily flickering to his face before it was right back on the contents of the box. And then back on his face—and then at his weapon, which he then quickly holstered. 

“Find anything good, kid?” he offhandedly asked, not really an actual question—just to get the talk going. 

“Not really.”

Elliott pouted. “No—I don't know—barrel stabilizers or stocks?”

“Why don't ya loot yaself, Witt?” Ramya asked from where she was pulling out a shield cell, stuffing it into her own backpack. “Crypt’s got his box and you have your box. Mind your own box.”

“Uh, I don't see labels on them. They're nobody’s.”

“They are labeled.”

“Quiet, Cryppy. I'm negotiating.”

“You're losin’,” Ramya piped up before laughing to herself, returning to her looting. 

Elliott scoffed before looking at Park, the man appearing finished with the contents inside. “So—”

“No, there weren't any stabilizers or stocks.”

“Aw… For realsies and cereal?”

“… Yes.”

“… Fuck.”

“Language,” the engineer interrupted, pushing herself up and shouldering her backpack. 

“You're twenty-one—you don't have baby ears.”

“No, I meant Crypt. Swearin’ ‘round your boyfriend? Tsk, tsk, Witt.”

“What—!?” Elliott began, though he was promptly cut off by Ramya beginning to run off towards the ring. 

“Save the chit-chat for later! We have a ring to get to and a lotta kills to get along the way!”

The boys moved to follow her, Elliott complaining along the way—“How do you know where to go!?”—with Park as silent as a mouse. Eventually, they managed to find a house to set up in at Fragment East. Ramya had her amped walls set up and was currently on the bottom floor setting up a few more, leaving Elliott and Park alone on the top floor. The hacker was quiet, playing with his remote cube—and something was certainly wrong. He never played with that thing during games, always efficient in acting as reconnaissance and finding any enemy squads around them. 

He was sitting near the edge of the roof, Triple Take perched and waiting for signs of hostiles. Elliott once again joined him, his usual smile painting his visage. 

“You seem stressed.” Perhaps a poor starter to this conversation, but he'd rather be blunt and straightforward, seeing as Park’s approach to answering subtlety was simply more subtlety. 

“What gave that away?” was his response—and Elliott hated the way his brows pinched before sighing. “Sorry. This situation is simply… tiring.”

“Hey, you don't have to worry about that. S’not like I'm gonna get mad at you for being a lil’ snappy. You're grumpy—and that's fine. You're always grumpy.”

That rewarded Elliott with a quiet huff of amusement. “Am I now?”

“Yeah. It's part of your charm. You're like that cat that always looks angry but is secretly a sweetie.”

“I'm not a ‘sweetie.’”

“Liar. You're a sweetheart—but your cool, confident façade hides away your true colors!” A sigh, the trickster’s hand dramatically draping itself over his forehead. “Tragic. I'd love to get to know the real you—the little kid hiding behind cool metal faces and a screen.”

“… I thought she did as well.”

Elliott’s smile fell. He feared that would happen—the hacker thinking of his short-lived friendship with Natalie. She was perceived as everyone's little sister, perfect and sweet and kind—apparently, she wasn't all sugar and spice and everything nice. Elliott had known as much, but he didn't expect her to grow so malicious and cold, especially to someone who didn't do anything wrong. Then again, she didn't really see him that way. 

He shifted closer to the hacker, hazel eyes snapping to watch the movement, hesitant. “Hey, you don't… have to worry about me suddenly bailing on you,” the trickster said, voice low and quiet. “You're rough around the edges, but you're not a bad guy—a-and, besides, I know you're not the mole. I've already made that clear.”

He watched the hacker slowly nod, listening rather than speaking. That's not shocking—moments like these were ones where he just wanted to listen and not ruin whatever was happening with his big mouth. 

“You were the last person here who deserved to have the blame shoved onto them.” And Elliott felt confident saying as much. He always seemed to be just a second away from shattering completely, irreparable. And he's certain this has all only left more scars that wouldn't heal. “The others will come around, and maybe Natalie will, too. Just give it time, kid. You'll be okay.” Sheepishly, he added, “And… I'm… here, if you wanted to talk. Y-You don't have to! I know y-you're, uh— _ private  _ and all, and I-I don't want you to feel like you  _ have _ to talk to me about this! It's your choice! You don't—”

“Elliott.”

Not “Mirage” or “Witt.” Progress! “Y-Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

His smile returned once Park’s did, gently nudging the man with his elbow. “Hey, no problem. You just owe me for all eternity.”

“Sure. I'll begin repaying you with making you coffee every morning.”

Elliott gasped, a hand placed on his chest now. “Your special morning brew? I get to drink it?”

“It's just regular coffee with cream and sugar, Witt.”

“But it's from you!”

“And?”

“It's  _ special. _ ”

Before the hacker could scoff and roll his eyes, Ramya made a reappearance, sliding up the zip-line and leaping out with her arms held up. That charming crooked grin adorned her visage, making a spectacle of her entrance, despite both men knowing she was on her way back up. 

“Miss me?” she asked, walking over to where they were seated. “Or… did ya two  _ not _ miss me? Too busy exchangin’—”

“ _ All right, _ ” the trickster interrupted, pushing himself off the ground and onto his feet. “Time to get a move on, kiddos. Where are we going?”

“Thought you had a plan, Witt. You're  _ so pro _ I thought you'd have thought of somethin’.”

“I—” Elliott pouted, a hand coming up to stroke his beard in contemplation. Of course she'd put him on the spot like this. 

However, his saving grace came in the form of a  _ ping _ sound from their maps, the two pulling it out and seeing a location marked. Their eyes moved to where Park stood, looking bored but… less empty, Elliott supposed. 

“We can move there.”

“Dope,” Ramya said, map shoved back into her backpack. 

Elliott grinned of jest and childish amusement. “Whatever you say,  _ old man. _ ” Spoken like an elderly man on his deathbed. 

He expected the hacker to glare at him, maybe tell him to piss off, before hopping off of the building and letting his jump kit carry him down to safety. What he  _ didn't  _ expect was for the hacker to unexpectedly laugh, a hand coming up to cover his own grin and stifle the laughter. 

And  _ wow _ was it such a nice sound. He wanted to hear that again. 

_ Wait—what? _

“Shut up, Mirage,” Park said once his giggles had subsided, already shifting back into match mode. “Let's go.”

“Followin’ you.”

“Y-Yeah, right behind you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Leave a comment if you did! It helps and gives more motivation to work on more pieces!!


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